What There is Between Us
by Grey'sHouseCrim
Summary: A twisted love story between Jackson Avery and Mark Sloan. Rated M for later chapters, which contain: language, sexual coercion, and slash. Don't like, don't read.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own anything from the show. I wish I did, but I don't,

Chapter 1

It hadn't rained in Seattle for several days. The unusually sunny weather had dried the ground and bolstered the spirits of everyone at Seattle Grace Hospital. It wasn't as if anything had really changed. The psych ward was still loud, the pediatric ward was still full of sick kids, and the ER was still a disaster area. What was different was the amount of smiles that were plastered on the faces of the doctors and nurses.

Dr. Jackson Avery sat in the cafeteria eating a chicken wrap and reading a medical journal. He had just started reading an article about the latest advancements in treating burn scars, when his phone began to ring.

"Hello?" he said as he answered it.

"Jackson?" said the voice on the other end. "It's your mother." Jackson groaned internally. He did not want to spend his lunch break debating his choice to be in plastics with his bitch of a mother.

"Hey, mom." he replied as if he was happy to hear from her. "Look, now's not a very good time. I just got paged." he lied.

"Honey, this is important." his mother interjected. The tone in her voice worried him.

"What is it, mom?" he asked. He held his breath as he heard sniffles on the other end.

"Your grandfather died last night, honey. He went in his sleep, and it looks as though he didn't suffer. I'm sorry, hun." Jackson couldn't believe his ears. They had just buried his grandmother a few weeks earlier.

"I'm so sorry, mom. I know how much you loved your dad." he said into the phone. "When is the funeral?"

"Saturday. Can you make it out here?" she asked somberly.

"Yeah. I'll find a way to work it out." he replied. At that moment, his pager went off. He snatched it off of his belt and read the message: **Multi-car collision. Facial damage. -Mark.** He sighed inwardly, and placed the pager back in it's holder. "I'm sorry, mom, but I really need to go. I'll call you when I know when I'll be home." He paused, then added, "I love you."

"I love you too, son." she said, "Go save some lives." They said their goodbyes, and Jackson through out what was left of his lunch. He didn't feel very hungry anymore.

As he made his way to the pit, the sun was blocked by the dark clouds that indicated that rain was coming their way. He felt like crying, but quickly pulled himself together as he reached the doors of the ER.

"What have we got?" he asked.

A few hours later, Jackson and Mark Sloan were scrubbing out of surgery. It had been a long one, that had entailed fixing a broken nose, repairing a broken eye socket, and sewing half of the man's face back on. However, the procedure had been fairly successful, and both doctors were reasonably sure that the man would end up looking normal once he was healed.

As they were washing their hands, Mark looked over at him and asked, "What's up with you today, Avery? You barely spoke a word in there."

Jackson considered lying for a moment before realizing that he would have to talk to Mark anyways to get time off of his service. "I got a call during my lunch break..." he said, trying to keep his breathing steady. "My grandfather died."

Mark stopped scrubbing his hands, and looked at Jackson. "I'm sorry to hear that." The look in his eyes told Jackson that he meant what he was saying. "Was it the one on your mother's side as well?"

Jackson knew that Mark was recalling the fact that his maternal grandmother had also recently died. He nodded his head, and Mark put a recently dried hand on his shoulder. "You know, sometimes, when you've been married as long as they had, when one passes, the other goes soon after. It's like... one can't live without the other." Marks eyes were filled with concern as he surveyed Jackson.

Jackson closed his eyes and tried to fight back the tears that he knew were coming. When he looked into Mark's eye, he felt the tidal wave break, and tears began streaming down his face. He tried to wipe them way, but they kept coming despite him. Mark pulled him into a comforting embrace. Being in his arms, Jackson felt as though he could finally let himself go.

After a few minutes of crying, Mark released Jackson, and placed a hand on either shoulder. Jackson kept his head down. "Look at me." Mark said gently. When Jackson didn't respond, Mark place his hand under Jackson's chin and lifted it. As he did so, he said more softly, "Look at me." Jackson lifted his eyes to meet Mark's. "You are going to get through this." he said. An though it seemed impossible, in that moment, Jackson felt that the words were true. He nodded his head.

"The funeral is on Saturday." he said. "I need to be there."

Mark nodded, and replied, "I'll work it out with the chief. You just worry about you and your family, okay?" Jackson nodded, and walked out of the room. As he did, Mark followed him with his eye. He felt immensely sorry for Jackson. He knew how it felt to lose someone you love.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I do not own anything from the show. I wish I did, but I don't.

Chapter 2

A week later, Jackson was walking into work. He had attended the funeral, and cried along with his family. He could still feel the effects of the loss on his body, but he knew that the only way that he was going to feel better was by getting back to work.

In the elevator, he ran into Mark. He gave him a brief nod of greeting, as he stepped into the box. He went to press the button for the fourth floor before seeing that it was already lit, and settled into a standing position next to Mark and in front of a man resting on crutches. On the second floor, the man left the elevator, leaving only Mark and Jackson. The doors closed, and the elevator began to move. Mark looked sideways at Jackson and said, "How are you doing?"

"I'm alright." he said. "I'm definitely feeling better than my mom."

"How is she?" he asked.

"She's still pretty upset." he replied. "You know, it was her mom." The doors of the elevator opened. Both men walked out, and started down the hallway.

"It's gotta be hard losing your grandparents" Mark said, sneaking a quick glance at his friend.

"Yeah" was Jackson's only reply.

"I lost my grandparents a few years ago, they died in a car crash." Mark said.

"I'm sorry to hear that." Jackson replied, "I had no idea."

"It's okay. I got over that a long time ago. But I do know how it feels." Mark said. At that moment, they approached the resident locker room, and Avery said his goodbyes.

"If you ever need to anything..." Mark said, trailing off. Jackson nodded as Mark walked away.

A few days later, Jackson walked downstairs to the kitchen of Meredith's house. Alex was sitting at the table eating cereal and reading the paper. When Jackson walked into the room, Alex looked up and said, "You got something in the mail."

Jackson walked over to the kitchen counter, and picked up the letter that had his name on it. He glanced at the return address, and noticed that it was from a law firm. He ripped open the letter and read it quickly. His face broke out into a glib smile.

As it turned out, his grandfather had willed him a condo just a couple of miles from the hospital. He couldn't believe that he had been in Seattle for all this time, and no one had mentioned that his grandparents had even owned a condo in the area. It was just like them to have him make his own way, then reward him with something like this.

He was conflicted. He liked living at Meredith's house with all of his friends, but this was a chance to be on his own for the first time in his life. Growing up, he had live with his parents and siblings. Then he went to college, and lived in a dorm. Then, in med school, he lived with roommates. And now, he was living at Mer's house. But now, he had his own condo. He grabbed a cereal bar from the cupboard, and headed out the door.

Jackson walked out of the patient's room, and closed the chart he was holding. As he stood at the nurse's station, waiting for the next batch of papers, Mark walked up to him.

"What's going on, Avery?" he asked.

Jackson lifted his head, and responded, "Mrs. Henderson's swelling is starting to subside, but I've increased her IV antibiotics because she's running a slight fever."

"That's good. Anything else up?" he asked.

"Not really, just rounds." he said. Mark continued to look at him. He could tell that Mark wanted to say something else, but before he could, the nurse handed him the charts and he walked away.

As he moved down the hallway, Mark shouted, "I've got a cleft palate surgery at 1. Come scrub in." Jackson turned, smiled and waved.

Later that day, Jackson and Mark were standing on opposite sides of their patient. Mark was working on the hard palate of the kid, while Jackson observed. Mark and he had been casually chatting for the better part of an hour, when the subject of his recent loss came up.

"How are you doing?" Mark asked.

"I'm alright." Jackson replied. "I got a letter in the mail today. They left me a place a couple of miles from here."

"That's great!" Mark replied. "When do you move in?"

"I don't know yet." Jackson said.

"Well, let me know when you do. I'll help you move in." Mark offered.

"Seriously?" Jackson asked, surprised.

"Yeah. It's a free workout, and we can have a few beers afterwords." Mark said, looking up at Jackson.

"Sounds good. Thanks" Jackson said. "I'll let you know when I find out when."


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

Chapter 3

A few weeks later, Mark and Jackson were bringing the last two boxes into Jackson's new condo. They were both sweaty and tired. As they set the last of the boxes down, Jackson looked at Mark and asked, "Do you want a beer?"

"Yeah, I'll take one." Mark replied. Jackson walked into his new kitchen and over to the fridge. He opened it and noticed how weird it was to see a refrigerator with only a 24 case of beer in it. He cracked open the case, grabbed two cold beers, and walked back into the living room.

"We should order some food." Jackson said. "What do you think? Pizza?"

"Pizza sounds good to me." Mark said as he opened the can in his hands. Jackson pulled out his phone and dial the number of a local pizza place.

As the phone began to ring, he looked over at Mark, and asked, "Pepperoni?" Mark nodded in response, and listened as Jackson placed the order.

"They said about 45 minutes." Jackson said when he got off the phone.

"That's enough time to get a good buzz going." Mark said with a smile. Jackson let out a small laugh. They sat talking and drinking together for the next half an hour. They were having a good time, just enjoying eachother's company. The buzzer rang, and Jackson got up to press the buzzer.

"Thank God!" Mark exclaimed. "I'm so hungry."

"I know, me too." Jackson agreed. There was a knock on the door, and Jackson walked over to the door. When Jackson opened the door, he came face to face with the barrel of a gun.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters referenced in this work of fiction.

Warning: This chapter contains slash, foul language, and forced sexual content. Reader beware!

Author's note: This is a much longer chapter, and it may contain some language that it offensive to readers (and me as well). The content herein is not meant to be offensive, but does progress the storyline.

Chapter 4

"Get inside!" the man screamed at Jackson.

As he back up, he said, "Calm down man. Just relax, and tell us what you want." Mark sat on the couch with a stunned look on his face. The man with the gun was pacing in an agitated way that put both doctors on edge.

"You fucking fags, man. You're trying to take over the country! I swear, I should just shoot you right now!" The man yelled, still pacing.

Jackson looked at Mark, quizzically. "We're not gay." Jackson said to the man.

"Yeah, right!" the man said. "I saw the two of you moving boxes in! You two are moving in together."

"That's not what's going on," Mark said to the man. "We work together and I offered to help him move. We're just friends."

At that moment, the buzzer sounded. The man with the gun got closer to Jackson, still pointing the gun at him and asked, "Who is it? Who's at the door?"

"That's probably the pizza guy," Jackson said. "That's who we thought you were."

"Make him go away!" The man said.

"The best way to get him to leave it to pay for the pizza," Mark said. The man nodded, and Jackson pressed the buzzer. The man walked over to Mark and looked back at Jackson.

"You get the pizza," he commanded. "If you do anything to let him know what's going on, I'll kill him." The man gestured toward Mark.

Jackson took a deep breath, and nodded. "I won't do anything."

"You'd better not!" the man screamed.

There was a knock on the door, and Jackson walked over to it and opened it. He plastered a fake smile on his face, and said as calmly as possible, "How much do I owe you?"

"$16.50" the pizza guy said. Jackson took a fifty dollar bill out of his pocket, and handed it through the door.

"Keep the change," he said as he took the pizza, and closed the door. He turned around and put the pizza down on the table. He looked at Mark and the man with the gun. Mark looked terrified, and Jackson didn't blame him.

"There, he's gone," Jackson said.

"Good," the man with the gun said. "Now get over there with him." He gestured towards Mark, and Jackson walked slowly over to him.

Mark put a hand on Jackson's shoulder and whispered, "Are you okay?" Jackson nodded and asked Mark the same question. Mark replied that he was okay.

"Aww, how sweet" the man with the gun cooed.

"Look, man. We'll do whatever you want, alright. Just tell us what you want, and then you can leave." Mark said.

"What do I want? What do I want?" the man said. "I want the two of you to stop lying to me!" He waved the gun around wildly.

"Alright, man. Just calm down, and we'll tell you the truth about whatever you want." Jackson said to the man.

They were standing with their backs to the kitchen, and the man gestured them to sit down. They sat right where they were standing, and looked up at the man expectantly. The man looked down at them. With gritted teeth, he asked why they were lying about being gay. Mark and Jackson looked at each other in astonishment.

"We're not gay," Mark said, resolutely. "We're just friends."

"Yeah, right!" the man said. He paced for a couple more seconds, then looked at them and said, "Okay, prove it!"

Mark and Jackson exchanged confused looks. "What do you mean 'prove it'?" Jackson asked. "You can't prove a negative."

"Prove it. Kiss him!" the man said. Neither one knew how to react to that statement, so they just sat silently.

The man became more agitated by their lack of a reaction, and turned the gun to face them again. Jackson put a hand up, looked at Mark, and whispered, "Let's just do it so he'll leave." Mark nodded, and they leaned together. The kiss was soft and tentative. Neither knew exactly how they were supposed to do this. After a couple of seconds, they pulled away and looked up at the man. He had a strange smile on his face.

"Did I tell you to stop?" the man asked, menacingly. Jackson took a deep breath and kissed Mark again. This time, the tentativeness had subsided. Mark reached up, and cupped Jackson's chin in his hand. They scooted closer to one another, and tilted their heads in order to deepen the kiss. Despite the circumstances, they both found the situation relatively comfortable. The kiss continued to deepen until it became a full blown make-out session. Mark's tongue slipped passed his lips, and into Jackson's mouth. They battled for dominance, and in the end, Mark won. As they continued to kiss, the man watching them took a seat in one of the kitchen chairs. He commanded them to take their shirts off, and they did so without a fight.

Feeling the contact of skin on skin fueled the heated battle in their mouths. Before long, they were laying, Mark on top of Jackson, on the rough carpeting. Somehow, Jackson felt safer with Mark's weight pressing down on him. He realized a second later that Mark's weight wasn't the only thing pressing into him. Despite the frightening circumstances, both doctor's bodies had responded to the kiss in the predictable way. _It doesn't mean anything,_ Jackson thought to himself. _It's a natural reaction when someone is this good a kisser._ He mentally slapped himself for thinking that Mark was a good kisser, but then remembered that they had more pressing worries.

At that moment, the man with the gun got up from his seat and approached them. They stopped what they were doing, and both looked at the man. He leaned down and examined his two captives. "See! I knew it!" the man said, waving the gun around again. "You're hard! You're both hard for kissing another man." It seemed to Jackson as though Mark had not noticed this fact until this point. Both men blushed, and looked away from one another.

Jackson took that moment to speak up and say, "Look, man. You got what you wanted, now go." He continued to stare into the man's eye, when a smile broke out on his face. The smile creeped Jackson out because he knew that the man was thinking. This wasn't over yet.

"I don't think so," the man said. "I think that the two of you are still lying to me... and yourselves." At these words, Jackson broke eye contact with the deranged man. "I think that there's more to explore here. Take off you pants!" the man screamed the last sentence, making both men jump. They did as they were told, trying not to look at each other. When they were clad only in their underwear, it was quite obvious that both men were aroused.

"Continue," the man commanded in a calm tone. This time, Jackson made the first move. He leaned forward and claimed Mark's lips in a reassuring manner. He was trying to let Mark know that he was in this with him. They quickly ended up in the same laying position as before, with Mark on top. Thought, this time, they began to rub their bodies together. Each let out a moan at the friction against their hard dicks. Neither wanted to admit it, but they were actually beginning to enjoy what they were doing. But at the same time, they both knew that they had to find a way out of this situation before the man lost it and shot them.

"I think it's time for the two of you to round third base," the man said.

Mark moved his lips from Jackson's lips to his neck. At first, Jackson was a little confused by this. He was wondering if Mark was trying to avoid doing what the man had said by showing other affection. But then Mark's lips moved to his ear and he whispered, "I'll do it. Just close you eyes and think of Lexie or something." Jackson tilted his head to look into Mark's eye. He was surprised to see the resolute look he found there. Mark was willing to do this to spare Jackson from having to. In some twisted way, it was romantic. Jackson gave a slight nod of his head, to let Mark know that he had heard him and agreed.

With that, Mark began kissing his way down Jackson's chest. Jackson didn't know it, but Mark had gone down on a guy before. It was back in college, with Derek. That had been a one time thing, but Mark figured that it was better him than Jackson. Mark's kisses had made it all the way down his stomach, and his trembling fingers were hooking under the elastic of Jackson's underwear. Mark pulled them down in one quick swipe, revealing Jackson entirely. Mark forgot himself for a minute as he looked at Jackson's hard dick. It was pretty big, about 8 inches and thick. Jackson peered down at Mark, staring at his dick. A second later, Mark recovered and slowly grabbed Jackson by the base. He licked his lips and leaned his head forward.

Mark wrapped his lips around the head of Jackson's dick. It had been a long time since he had done this, but he slowly began to remember the feeling. He used his tongue to tease the slit, then began to take more of it into his mouth. Jackson moaned above him, and Mark fought back a smile. If he was going to do this, he might as well do it well. He began to bob his head up and down the shaft, while his right hand twisted up and down the on the part of his dick that couldn't fit in his mouth. Jackson bucked his hips in pleasure, almost gagging Mark. He used his free hand to hold him down, and continued to take more and more of Jackson's hard-on into his mouth.

After a few minutes, he had managed to get every inch of the other man's cock into his mouth. He continued to deep-throat Jackson as heard the moans of pleasure coming from above him. The sounds that Jackson was making were turning him on in a way that he had never imagined a man could. He felt his dick straining against the fabric of his boxer-briefs. Jackson's mind was racing. He couldn't believe how good Mark was making him feel. At that moment, Lexie was the last thing on his mind. All he could manage to do was groan in pleasure and think about how good Mark's mouth felt. He looked down at his friend with his dick in his mouth, and that sight alone nearly made him cum. Without thinking, he reached down and tangled his hand in Mark's hair. He didn't apply any pressure, he just let his hand move up and down along with Mark's bobbing head.

In some bizarre way, the feeling of Jackson's hand in his hair felt reassuring to Mark. It was almost as though it let him know that he was doing it right. Given the circumstances, he was at least glad that he was making Jackson feel good. A few seconds later, Jackson squeezed on the hair that he was holding. Mark knew what that meant, having done it before with women. He took one last long bob of his head and swallowed Jackson whole. A second later, he felt hot cum sliding down his throat.

Mark raised his head to see that Jackson was a quivering mess. He had clearly enjoyed himself. Mark smiled at this before realizing that the man with the gun was still in the room. He turned his head to the man and asked, "Is that what you wanted?"

The man looked at him for a second, then a grimace spread across his face. "I told you he was a fag." Mark knew that he was referring to Jackson, who had just recovered from one of the most intense orgasms of his entire life. Mark wasn't sure how to respond to that statement, so he remained sitting quietly. Then the man cocked his head to the side slightly, as though he had an idea. "I think that he wants more," the man said.

"What do you mean?" Mark asked.

"I mean that I think that it time for you to fuck him." The man said this calmly, almost as though it was a logical statement.

Mark immediately began to protest, "No! No way. I'm not going to do that to him. I don't care what you do to me, I'm not going to hurt him like that."

"Did you just say no to me?" the man with the gun asked in such a cold, menacing voice that both doctors recoiled. "How dare you say no to me?"

It took Mark a few seconds to get his courage back, but when he did, he looked the man directly in the eyes and said, "Like I said, NO. I'm not going to do it." In a flash, the man got out of the chair he was sitting in, strode over to Mark, and pistol whipped him. Mark felt a searing pain in his forehead, and the man began to pace again.

Jackson turned Marks head to face him and asked, "Are you alright?" Mark lifted his eyes to meet Jackson's and nodded.

"I'll be fine," he said. "Am I bleeding?"

"Yeah," Jackson replied. "But it doesn't look too bad."

At that moment, the man with the gun turned back to the two men. Mark moved slightly in front of Jackson, attempting subconsciously to protect him. "I told you to do something," the man said.

"And I gave you an answer," Mark replied.

The man came closer to Mark again, and Jackson quickly shouted, "NO!" He couldn't bear to see Mark get hurt again, so he leaned in close to Marks ear and whispered, "It's okay. Just do it before he hurts you again." Mark looked him in the eyes and told him that it was okay if he got hurt, as long as Jackson didn't get hurt. Jackson was touched by his words, but replied, "I can't watch him hurt you again. He might kill you, or me, or both of us if we don't do what he says. I'm telling you that it's okay." He looked directly into Mark's eyes as he said the last sentence. Mark gave a little nod, and averted his eyes.

"Good," the gunman said, "it looks like we're in agreement... Now get to it."

Mark looked into Jackson's eyes as he began to kiss him again. He was reluctant to do this to Jackson, so when he resigned himself to the fact that it was going to happen, he decided that he was going to make it as gentle as possible. Mark knew that, even if Jackson had any lube, it would surely be packed away in some unknown box. As a result, Mark knew that he had to fin another way to find lubrication. Having no other option, Mark stuck his index and middle finger in his mouth and bathed them in saliva. He placed his index finger at Jackson's entrance, and slowly slid it in.

Jackson moaned at the penetration. Mark was as gentle as possible, but he could still tell that Jackson was uncomfortable. He began to move his finger in and out of his friend. When he felt Jackson begin to relax, he slowly added another finger into him. He continued to work his two fingers in and out of Jackson, until he looked up at him and said, "I'm ready. It's okay."

Mark trusted his friend to know his own limits, so he positioned himself at Jackson's entrance. He reached down, and cupped Jackson's face in one hand. "Are you sure?" was all that he asked. Jackson nodded, and Mark slowly pushed his way into Jackson's tight heat.

Jackson grunted at the intrusion, and gritted his teeth. Mark couldn't help but moan at the feeling surrounding his cock. Mark knew he was big, but he couldn't imagine how Jackson was feeling being violated by 9 inches of thick cock.

Once the head of Mark's dick had passed the tight ring of muscle, he paused. He knew that Jackson was probably in a fair amount of pain, so he waited for a few seconds until Jackson nodded his head for Mark to continue. He pushed his way into Jackson slowly. Once he was completely buried inside of him, he paused again. He waited for Jackson to get used to the intrusion and nod before he began to move.

His movements were slow at first, he was afraid of hurting his friend. After a few minutes, he heard Jackson let out a groan that let him know that he had done something right. Without hesitating, Mark thrust forward at the same angle very quickly. Jackson responded by letting out a yelp and digging his nails into Mark's shoulders. His reaction let Mark know that he had found the right spot. He started moving at a faster pace, which caused Jackson to begin moaning continuously. The friction around his dick felt incredible, and he started moving faster and faster until his was pounding into Jackson at a feverish pace. Mark reached down and began to stroke Jackson. The feeling of another man's dick in his hand drove him crazy with pleasure, and he began pumping into him even more furiously.

Mark leaned down and devoured Jackson's mouth. Both men couldn't help but moan at the feelings they were receiving. After a few minutes, Mark pulled away and said, "I'm gonna cum."

Jackson responded, "Me too." They began to kiss again, and within a few seconds, both men were spilling their loads. Each let out a moan that was captured by the other man's lips. Mark collapsed against Jackson, and they held each other for several minutes.

When he had finally regained his strength, Mark pushed himself up into a push-up position and looked into Jackson's eyes. No words were say, but they continued to stare at each other for what felt like hours, though it was only a few seconds. When the trance finally broke, Jackson looked over to the chair where the man had been sitting, only to find it empty. Mark looked over as well, and gently extracted himself from Jackson. They didn't look at each other for several seconds before Jackson said, "Lock the door."

Mark didn't need to be told twice. He rose to his feet and made his way to the door. Once it was locked, he looked over at Jackson and asked, "What now?"


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I still don't own any of the characters.

Chapter 5

Mark stood at the door looking at Jackson, still seated on the floor. Jackson wouldn't look at Mark for several seconds. His mind was racing, and he didn't know what to do next. Finally, he forced himself to look up at his friend and mentor. He looked Mark directly in the face, and his eyes found the gash in his forehead. All of his training kicked in, and he quickly got to his feet, and walked over to Mark. He reached his hand up to the wound and said, "Your forehead."

Mark just stared at Jackson for a second in confusion. Then, his words sunk in. He reached his hand up to his forehead, and touched gently. When he pulled his hand away, he saw that there was blood on it. "How bad is it?" he asked, tilting his head downward slightly so that Jackson could get a better look.

After a closer examination, Jackson responded, "You need stitches." Both men stood silently for a moment, contemplating the idea of going to the hospital. Both wondered how they would explain what had happened, and how much they should tell.

"We could say that one of the boxes fell on my head while I was getting it out of the truck," Mark suggested. Jackson considered this. It was a good enough plan, and required no further explanation, but for some reason, he was still nervous.

Then an idea struck him. "I've got a suture kit in my car." Mark thought about this for a second. Truth be told, he was at first a little hesitant to let a shaken resident near him with a needle. Then he realized that this wasn't any resident, this was Jackson Avery. Jackson was his star pupil, his prodigy. As he thought about it, if he couldn't do it himself, Jackson was the person that he would trust to stitch someone up.

He nodded his head in agreement, and Jackson began looking around for his keys. He quickly found them, and threw on some of the discarded clothes from the floor. As he was about to unlock the door, fear swept through him. He looked back at Mark and said, "If I'm not back in three minutes, call the police." Mark nodded, and looked at his watch.

Two minutes later, Jackson walked back through the door holding the suture kit. Mark sat, now dressed, on the couch holding an ice pack to his head. Jackson looked at him for a moment, then asked, "Why are you wearing my shirt?"

Mark didn't even pause before replying, "Because you took mine." Jackson looked down to see that he was, in fact, wearing the shirt that Mark had been wearing earlier that day. He chuckled a little, and shrugged.

Jackson walked over to the couch and sat down next to Mark. He opened the kit, and began preparing the necessary materials. Mark continued to hold the ice to his head as he watched his pupil working.

After a few minutes, Jackson instructed him to move his hand, and Mark did. Jackson began to clean the area with an alcohol swab. It stung, and Mark shifted away slightly. Jackson gave him a look that clearly said 'stay put while I fix your face.' Mark sat still, and Jackson finished cleaning the area. Then, he took out a syringe that contained a local anesthetic, and began to numb the area. Once the area was thoroughly numbed, Jackson began to stitch the wound closed.

After fifteen minutes, Jackson had finished his work. He was relatively happy with how it turned out, and he told Mark that he could move. Mark walked to the bathroom and took a look in the mirror. He had to admit to himself that he was impressed, Jackson did good work. As he stood looking into the mirror, he realized that he had no idea what to do next. The gash on his forehead had provided a perfect distraction to both men. Luckily, at that moment, the pager in his pocket went off.

Mark walked out of the bathroom as he checked the message. "I gotta go to the hospital," he said to Jackson, who was still sitting on the couch.

"I thought we agreed that-" Jackson began, but he was cut off by Mark.

"No, I got paged..." he trailed off, noticing that Jackson was a little jumpy. "You should stay here and get some rest." His suggestion was firm, but Jackson immediately began shaking his head. He had no intention of staying in this place alone tonight.

"No, I'm going with you," he said, firmly.

"You really shouldn't be working on anybody tonight," Mark said gently. "You need to take some time to relax."

"No," Jackson said quietly. He averted his eyes from his friend. He didn't need to say the words, Mark knew that he was scared of being there alone.

"Alright," Mark said, "Come on. But stay in the on-call rooms. You're a little jumpy."

"Fine," Jackson replied. He wasn't about to argue, not when Mark was not asking questions. They grabbed their coats and left the condo.

The car ride was awkward, to say the least. Neither one said anything the entire way. When they finally pulled into the hospital parking lot, Jackson got out before Mark had even turned the car off.

Mark walked into the hospital, and made his way up to he surgery to which he had been paged. He scrubbed in, and got to work. The surgery took about three hours, and the entire time, he was thinking about Jackson. He had no clue how the other doctor was going to react once the reality of the situation had set in. When he was done, he scrubbed out, and made his way to the on-call rooms to check on Jackson.

The first two were empty, and when he opened the third, he was greeted with the sight of Meredith and Derek in a heated embrace. He mumbled a 'Sorry' and exited the room. For a split second he was concerned. Then, he knew where Jackson would be. Mark made his way down to the ER, and found Jackson in a matter of minutes.

"Can I talk to you for a second?" he asked as Jackson finished applying gauze to the wound of his patient.

"I'm with a patient, Dr. Sloan." Jackson said coldly.

"It looks as though you just finished with a patient," Mark replied. Jackson saw no way out of the situation, so he took off his gloves and told the man that a nurse would be with him shortly. He walked slowly out of the patient bay and stood in front of a waiting Mark.

"I thought that we agreed that you wouldn't work on patients." Mark looked long and hard at Jackson.

"No, you decided," Jackson threw back. "I didn't agree to anything."

"You should be sleeping," he replied. "I looked in all of the on-call rooms, and I couldn't find you. I got worried."

"Well, you don't have to worry about me!" Jackson replied, heatedly. "I'm fine." There were a few moments of silence between the two men before Jackson continued, more quietly, "Besides, I couldn't sleep."

Mark understood what he meant, and decided to let the subject go. "Well, no harm, no foul..." he said. "Anyways, I'm leaving. Do you want a ride?" he asked.

"No. I'm gonna stay here. I'll get a ride with Meredith, or someone else, later." Jackson was resolutely looking away from Mark as he said this, and Mark knew better than to push him.

"Alright," he said. "I guess I'll see you later, then." With that, Mark walked away from Jackson, and Jackson moved to the next patient bed. As he was about to walk out of the ER, Mark looked back and saw Jackson talking with a young girl and her parents. He had a big smile plastered on his face, and Mark's heart ache because he knew it wasn't real.


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: I do not own anything.

Chapter 6

Jackson spent the next week working in the ER and sleeping in the on-call rooms. He hadn't gotten up the courage to go back home yet, and he didn't want to explain going back to Meredith's house. For the first few days, he had been sore from his encounter with Mark, but that had subsided. When he would see Mark in the hallways, he would make a quick turn or avert his eyes. Mark just didn't seem to get the hint, because every time, he would try to get Jackson's attention and talk to him.

On the eighth day after, Owen Hunt approached him in the ER. "You've been here a lot lately."

"Yeah," Jackson said. "I'm just trying to get some more hours in, you know. Just trying to help out."

Hunt nodded at his words, but said, "Well, that's nice of you, but you should really go home. You need a break."

"No, really, I'm fine," Jackson said.

"That wasn't a suggestion," Owen replied. "And, as I am the Chief, I am telling you to go home." Jackson didn't respond, and Owen continued, "It's still early evening, go out and have some fun. You're off tomorrow as well." He walked away before Jackson had time to respond. Jackson frowned, but realized that this was a losing battle, and made his way to the locker room to gather his stuff.

When he got there, he realized that he only had his clothes from the other night to wear. He had been wearing a rotation of scrubs for over a week, and as he looked at the hanging material, he realized that he still had Mark's shirt. He looked at it for a moment, then reached out and grabbed the hanging shirt.

Once he was dressed, he realized that he still had to figure out where to go. Having no better ideas, he made his way across the street to Joe's Bar. He look at his watch, and saw that it was 6 o'clock. He sat at the bar, and ordered himself a scotch on the rocks and a beer. When Joe brought him his order, he downed the scotch and took a sip of the beer. Joe gave him a look that asked if he wanted another, and Jackson nodded.

An hour and a half later, Jackson was completely wasted. He hadn't said a word to anyone since he entered the bar, other than to order drinks. He was feeling the alcohol enough that he decided that he was finally ready to go back to Meredith's house. He figured that he could just say that he had gone their out of habit. As he paid his tab, Joe saw the keys in his hand. Joe didn't know that Jackson didn't have his car with him, so he got worried about Jackson trying to drive.

"That's a cool key chain," Joe said as he handed Jackson his credit card back. "Can I see it?" Jackson looked at Joe confused, but then held out his keys for him to take. Joe took the keys, and examined the key chain. "That is very nice," he said. "And unfortunately, I can't give it back to you tonight." Jackson was confused, but then realized what was going on. He tried to argue with the bartender, but his drunken state made this impossible.

At that moment, Mark walked into the bar. He quickly scanned the room, and saw a very distraught Jackson at the bar. Mark walked up and asked what was going on. Jackson tried to explain, but once again, his words failed him. Joe explained the situation, and Mark quickly offered to drive Jackson home. Jackson began to protest, but finally understood that it was a losing battle.

Mark helped Jackson over to his car, and got him settled in the passenger's seat. He walked around to the driver's side, got in, and asked, "So, where to?"

Jackson managed to slur something that approximated Meredith's house, and Mark began to drive. The trip took only fifteen minute, and then Mark carried Jackson to the door. He rang the bell, but the house was dark, and no one answered. Mark figured they were out, and was about to ask Jackson for his keys, when he realized that they were still at the bar. He considered taking him to his new condo, but then remembered that those keys would likely be on the same ring. There was no way he was going to bring Jackson to the hospital in his condition, so Mark made the decision that Jackson would have to come over to his apartment.

Twenty minutes later, Mark was helping Jackson out of the car. "Where'r wee?" Jackson slurred.

"We're at my place," Mark said coolly. Jackson didn't ask any more questions as they ma6e their way up the stairs and into Mark's apartment. As soon as they entered, Jackson pushed Mark up against the door and kissed him hard. Mark was momentarily stunned by his actions, but recovered quickly, and pushed him slightly away.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"Exactly what you wanted me to." Jackson said. Mark gave him a confused look. "Oh, come on..." Jackson continued, "I know you wanna fuck me. That's the whole reason you brought me here, to get me into bed."

Mark was stunned by his words. He could not believe that Jackson thought that of him. "That's not why I brought you here," he said calmly. "I brought you here so that you could sleep off the alcohol."

Jackson didn't seem to hear his words, and began kissing Mark's neck. Mark stopped him again, and Jackson said confidently, "You know you want to, so just do it."

Mark looked Jackson dead in the eyes and said, "No. You're going to bed. The guest bedroom is this way." With that, he began to move Jackson down the hallway into the spare bedroom. He got no more complaints from the drunk man, and they made it to the room without anyone breaking any bones.

Mark didn't bother trying to get Jackson into any pajamas, but simply lifted the covers and placed him down as gently as he could. Once Jackson was laying down, he made sure that he was on his side, and pulled the covers over him. Jackson fell asleep almost immediately, and Mark made his way into his own room. He got changed, and laid down in his own bed.

He contemplated the ceiling for what felt like hours. He couldn't get what had happened with Jackson out of his head. He heard the door to his room open, and looked over. Jackson stood there, looking timid.

"What's up?" he asked, feeling stupid. Jackson looked down, and mumbled something that Mark couldn't make out. "What?" he asked.

"I had a nightmare." Jackson said, feeling childish. Mark's face changed from confusion to sympathy. He lifted the covers while he slid over to make room. Silently, he was offering to let Jackson share his bed. Jackson hesitated, then walked over and climbed into Mark's king size bed.

Mark brought the covers back over them, and kept just enough distance between them to let Jackson know that he was there if he wanted, but he wouldn't touch him unless he wanted. Jackson looked into Mark's face and scooted closer. Mark took this as a sign, and wrapped one arm protectively around his friend. Jackson let out a breath that he hadn't know he was holding. Soon after, they fell asleep, Jackson wrapped in Mark's embrace.


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters, or anything else. The only thing that is mine is the storyline.

Chapter 7

Mark woke up to Jackson's soft breathing. He looked down at his prone form, and had to smile. He looked like a little kid, and Mark couldn't help but smile. The Chief had told him the day before that Jackson was banned from the hospital for the next two days. So, Mark decided to let his friend sleep for as long as he could. Jackson's snoring was hypnotic, and before he knew it, he had been watching him sleep for an hour.

Jackson began to stir around 9:30. The morning light was shinning in his eyes. Mark laid still, wondering whether or not to pretend to be asleep. As Jackson really started to wake up, Mark decided that it was better not to lie to his friend.

Jackson had a searing headache. He shut his eyes to the blinding light, and pulled a pillow over his head.

"Do you want some ibuprofen?" Mark asked quietly. Jackson almost jumped out of his skin at the sound. He hadn't realized yet that he was sharing a bed with anyone, let alone Mark. He snapped his head towards the sound, and half thought that he must be dreaming.

"What the fuck?" he exclaimed. "What the hell am I doing in your bed?" He was confused, which made him scared and angry. _What happened last night? Did we sleep together? Did I get drunk and have sex with Mark Sloan?_ His mind was racing, and he didn't know what to do or say.

Mark sensed that his friend was about to completely freak out, and quickly jumped in. "Calm down, Jackson. Nothing happened." Jackson wasn't going to be satisfied with that, and Mark knew it. He continued, "You had too much to drink at Joe's last night, he took your keys right when I walked in. I drove you to Mer's house, but no one was home. We couldn't get in, so I brought you here to sleep it off."

Jackson seemed to have calmed down a little bit, but he still hadn't had his original question answered. He asked again, "So, what am I doing in your bed? Why am I not on the couch?"

Mark was ready with his answer, "I dropped you in the guest bedroom. You came in here on you own."

"And..." was Jackson's only reply.

"And, you said that you had a bad dream. You got into my bed and fell asleep." Mark explained.

Jackson thought about this for a second. He could remember bits and pieces of what Mark was telling him, enough to believe that Mark was telling him the truth. He felt embarrassed, didn't know how to deflect it. He wished that he hadn't told Mark about the nightmares, but at this point he knew. Now it was a matter of getting Mark off of that topic.

"Well, why didn't you wake me up?" he asked, combative.

"Because, the Chief told me yesterday that you needed to take some time away from the hospital, and that if I get called in, not to call you in." With that, Mark got up and walked into the bathroom. Jackson considered walking out right then, but Mark was back within a few seconds. He approached Jackson, and handed him a glass of water and two pills. "Take these," he said, "They'll help the headache."

Jackson didn't move for a minute, but then the overwhelming pain made him act. He took the pills, swallowed them, and gulped down some of the water. He mumbled "Thanks," but was unsure of what to do next.

Mark looked at him, and said gently, "There's a shower in the guest bathroom, there's an extra toothbrush in there, and I'll leave some clothes on the guest bed that might fit you."

Jackson nodded, and asked, "Where is the guest bathroom?"

"On the other side of the living room." Mark pointed, and Jackson left to take a shower.

Mark gathered some of his clothes for Jackson and left them on his bed. Then he took a quick shower and began making breakfast. As the scrambled eggs cooked, he popped a few slices of bread into the toaster. Jackson walked out, wearing the clothes that Mark had left for him. He looked good in them, but then again, he would look good in anything.

"I'm making breakfast," he stated.

"I'm not hungry," Jackson replied.

"You need to eat," Mark said, piling eggs and bacon onto a plate. "You need nutrients, and I don't have a banana bag around here." They both knew the joke was feeble, but that Mark had a point, so Jackson didn't argue. They ate their food in silence. Jackson was trying to figure out a way to make his escape, and Mark was trying to give him some space in hopes that he would stay.

When they had both finished their plates, they continued to sit in silence. Mark was the one to break it. "So I just bought the first season of 'Dexter.' I hear it's really good. Do you wanna check it out?"

Jackson couldn't believe that Mark still hadn't gotten the hint that he didn't want to be there, but he found himself nodding, in spite of himself. Mark smiled, and took their empty plates to the kitchen sink. They walked into the living room, and Jackson took a seat on the couch. Mark opened the packaging around the DVD set, and placed the first disk into the DVD player.

He sat down on the couch with Jackson, and worked the remote. They sat in silence until the episode began. They both watched intently as the scenes unfolded, and when the episode ended, Mark asked, "Another?"

"Sure," was Jackson's reply.

By the middle of the third episode, all awkwardness had left them. They laughed and made comments as they watched. It was starting to feel comfortable. Mark didn't broach the topic of what had happened or Jackson's nightmares, even though he wanted to. He was just happy to have his friend acting like a friend again. They made lunch, and continued watching the show. By dinner time, they had made it through 9 of the 12 episodes in the season. They were so wrapped up in the story that they hadn't even realized that the sun had gone down.

"Should we order some Chinese, or something?" Mark asked. Jackson nodded, and they decided on what to order. As they continued their tele-binge, Jackson realized that he had been enjoying his time with Mark.

The buzzer sounded, and Jackson jumped. In that moment, both men remembered what had happened the last time they were in this situation. Mark doubted that anything like that would happen to them again, but he saw the frightened look on Jackson's face. He knew that he had to do something to alleviate his anxiety, so he said walked over to the buzzer and said, "I'll be right down." Jackson realized that meant that the delivery man would not be entering the building, and breathed a sigh of relief.

Mark returned several minutes later with a brown paper bag of food. He set it down on the kitchen table, and looked at Jackson. "You alright?" he asked.

"Yeah," Jackson said. He wasn't meeting Mark's eyes as he talked. "I just got a little freaked out, is all. It was stupid. I'm over it."

Mark took a step towards the young doctor and placed a hand on his shoulder. Jackson lifted his head, and looked at Mark. He saw the caring look in his friend's eyes, and broke down. He found himself clutching onto Mark as if his life depended on it, and crying on his shoulder. Mark didn't say a word, but simply rubbed his back in a soothing gesture.

A few minutes later, Jackson had regained his composure, but remained with his head on Mark's shoulder. He moved away, and looked into Mark's eyes again. "I'm sorry," was all he said.

"It's alright," was Mark's reply. They looked at each other for a couple of seconds before Mark asked, "So, are you hungry?" Jackson's face broke into a smile and he nodded.

Once they had gotten their food, Mark asked, "So, do you wanna keep watching 'Dexter' or just sit and talk?"

"I gotta see what's going to happen next," Jackson said, excited.

Two and a half hours later, the two men were sitting as the final credits began to run on 'Dexter.' "Man, I can't believe we watched an entire season of that show in one day!" Jackson exclaimed.

"I know, right?" Mark replied. "It was fantastic, though."

"Yeah, it was," Jackson agreed.

Jackson yawned, and Mark looked at the clock that hung on his wall. He said, "It's like 11 o'clock. We should probably get some sleep. You were only in the guest bed for like an hour, so the sheets should still be clean. Do you need anything?" Jackson shook his head, and they said their good nights.

They each brushed their teeth in their respective bathrooms, and Mark got into pajamas. He realized that he hadn't offered any sleeping clothes to Jackson, and grabbed some. He walked over to the second bedroom, and knocked on the door. "Can I come in?" he asked through the door.

"Yeah." The reply sounded far off, and Mark walked into an empty room. From the door to the bathroom, Jackson's voice sounded, "What's up?"

"I brought you some PJ's" Mark said.

"Thanks, but I sleep in just boxers," Jackson said without thinking. He immediately felt embarrassed, but didn't say anymore.

Mark wasn't sure how to reply to that comment, so he went with a noncommittal, "Alright, night." He left the room with thoughts of Jackson Avery in boxers swirling around in his head. He didn't want to admit it to himself, but he was attracted to the young doctor in the other room. Since the incident at Jackson's condo, he had been forced to explore how he really felt about him. In the end, he realized that Jackson was a good friend that he was sexually attracted to. He had decided that if Jackson was open to a relationship, then he would go for it, but he wasn't going to make the first move. All he needed was Jackson's friendship, anything else was gravy.


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: I still don't own anything.

Chapter 8

Jackson laid in Mark's guest bedroom and stared at the ceiling. His mind was going a mile a minute with thoughts of Mark. He remembered the events at his condo, and how caring Mark had been. He remembered that a part of him had enjoyed what Mark had done to him. However, he couldn't get the fact that a man with a gun had made them do it out of his head. He kept seeing that gun whenever he looked at Mark, until today. Today, they had be able to talk, laugh, and enjoy each others company. He knew that Mark cared about him, and he felt bad about shutting him out. He had needed time to deal with the fact that his first time with a man had been at gunpoint. It was the fact that the situation was completely out of his control that had resulted in his current state. As this thought crossed his mind, another occurred to him.

Jackson go out of bed and walked the short distance to Mark's bedroom. He opened the door to see a sleeping form lying on the bed. He walked over, and sat on the edge of the bed. The small motion was enough to wake Mark from his slumber. He looked up at his friends with concern and asked, "Did you have another nightmare?"

"No," Jackson replied, "I haven't even fallen asleep yet."

Mark looked confused. "So, what's up then?" he asked.

Jackson didn't reply, but leaned down and placed his lips gently against Mark's. The kiss was brief, and when Jackson pulled away, Mark looked up at him confused. Again, Jackson leaned down, and this time Mark met him half way. They pressed their lips together more forcefully than they had before, and Mark's hand found it's way to Jackson's jaw. The kiss deepened, and within a few seconds, their tongues were battling in Mark's mouth.

Jackson pulled the covers away from Mark's body and, without breaking their kiss, straddled the older man. What had been a simple kiss had turned into a heavy make-out session, and both men's bodies were beginning to respond to the stimulation. Indeed, both men's erections were pressing into the other's body as they began to rocked together.

Jackson reached between their bodies and found the hem of Mark's t-shirt. As he began to remove the piece of clothing, Mark reached down and pushed his hand away. He broke the kiss and asked, "Are you sure you want to do this? I mean, yesterday, you could barely look at me, and now you walk into my bedroom and start kissing me and taking my clothes off. I'm just not sure what's going on in your head right now."

Jackson pulled away from Mark and sat up on the edge of the bed. He looked at Mark through the darkness, and decided that he might as well tell him the truth. "What happened between us was out of my control. It wasn't my choice to have sex with you." Mark felt his heart sink as he heard Jackson begin to tell him how that night made him feel. "Since then, I've been trying to control everything, in particular my interactions with you. Then I realized that maybe what I need to do is chose to sleep with you. Maybe if we sleep together, and it's my choice... maybe I'll feel better about it." As Jackson finished, he looked away from the other man, feeling unsure of himself.

Mark sat up, and reached a hand up to Jackson's chin. Jackson kept his eyes averted, so he said, "Jackson, look at me." When he did, Mark said, "I'll do whatever I can to help you feel better. But I don't want to do something that's gonna end up hurting you more. So, I'm gonna ask you, are you sure about this? If you are, then I'll do it and I won't ask questions, but if you're not, say the word, and everything stops." Jackson took a second to think about Mark's words. He really did trust him, so he nodded his agreement. "I need to hear you say it. Tell me that this is what you want." Mark said the words gently, not wanting to force anything on his friends.

"Yes," Jackson said, resolute, "I want to do this."

"Alright," Mark replied. Mark sat and waited for Jackson to make the first move. He only had to wait a few seconds, then Jackson's lips were back on his. The kiss was more hungry this time, each having permission from the other for it to happen. Jackson's hand made it's way back to the hem of Mark's shirt, and this time he met no resistance. They broke the kiss long enough to remove the offending clothing, and ended up kissing with their bare chests together. Mark leaned back, pulling Jackson on top of him as they continued their lip-lock. Both found themselves totally enthralled by the experience. As they continued, they could each feel the other's erection pressing against them. Jackson began to rock his hips into Mark's, causing a delicious friction between them.

Jackson slowly began to turn over, pulling Mark with him. Mark was now on top of Jackson, and he took the opportunity to move his lips from Jackson's, to his neck. Jackson moaned at the sensation, which made Mark even harder. He licked and suck at the base of Jackson's neck, then made his way up to his ear lobe. He could feel Jackson shuttering slightly underneath him. He was about to stop and ask is he was okay, when Jackson groaned again, and began to tug on Mark's pajama pants. Mark smiled to himself, knowing that Jackson was enjoying himself as much as Mark was.

He lifted his hips to allow Jackson to remove the barrier. He had only been expecting for his pants to be taken away, but Jackson was getting impatient and pushed down his underwear as well. Mark reached down, and pulled the clothing the rest of the way off, before placing his hands on the elastic of Jackson's boxers. He stopped he kissing of Jackson's neck, and asked, "Is this okay?"

"God, yes," Jackson said, grabbing Mark's neck and pulling his lips toward him again. They resumed their kiss as Mark pulled off the last barrier between them. Jackson reached between them and took Mark's dick in his hand. He groaned as Jackson began to stroke him roughly. Mark mimicked his actions, and soon both men were moaning into a rough kiss.

After a few minutes, Jackson reached up and touched Mark's jaw, stopping the kiss. He looked up at the older man and said, "Do you have any lube?"

Mark was momentarily stunned, but then reached over into his nightstand and grabbed the bottle of lubricant he kept there. Mark looked down at Jackson, who was chewing on his lip. He looked nervous, and Mark knew that he would feel better once he got into things. Mark started kissing his way down Jackson's chest until he made his was to his dick. He grabbed Jackson's dick by the base, and lick the tip. Jackson let out a little yelp of pleasure, and stuck his knuckles in his mouth to keep himself quiet. Mark took the head of his cock into his mouth and began to suck on it gently. Jackson moaned again, and Mark sucked more into his mouth. He began to bob his head up and down, taking in more of Jackson's dick every time. Within a minute, Jackson's cock was all the way down Mark's throat.

Jackson had his head thrown back into the pillow. He was in ecstasy, just from the feeling of Mark's mouth on his dick. Mark was holding the bottle of lubrication in one hand, and the other held Jackson's hips in place. He could tell from the increased pace of Jackson's moans that he was getting close. He stopped sucking and looked up at him. Their eyes connected, and Jackson nodded, knowing that Mark was silently asking for permission to begin preparing him.

Mark lifted Jackson's legs up. He leaned his head down, and licked Jackson's balls. Then, he continued downwards until he reached his hole. He continued licking until the area was completely moistened, and Jackson was moaning like a dog in heat. The sounds he was hearing drove him to continue, and soon he was acting like he would if he were eat out a girl. Jackson was mumbling incoherently, while Mark stroked his thigh with one hand and himself with the other.

After a few minutes, Mark decided it was time to get down to business. He picked up the forgotten lubricant, and opened it. He applied some to his fingers, and moved his mouth back to the younger man's cock. He slowly penetrated Jackson with one finger. He could feel the tight ring of muscle clamp down on him, and waited for a second before beginning to move it. When his finger was sliding easily in and out of Jackson, he added another. He began to scissor his fingers, working him open more and more. When he went to add a third finger, Jackson stopped him with one hand.

Mark looked up at him and said, "It won't hurt as much if I prepare you more."

"I know," Jackson replied. "I want it to hurt. Not a lot, just enough for me to know that it's real."

Mark nodded, understanding what he meant. He added some more lube to his hand and rubbed it on his cock. He moved back on top of Jackson, and positioned himself at his entrance. He looked into Jackson's eyes and asked again, "Are you sure this is what you want?"

Jackson responded by saying, "I'm sure. Take me."

With that, Mark began to slowly push his way into the man underneath him. Jackson let out a grunt and gritted his teeth at the intrusion. Mark stopped as the head of his dick popped through the tight ring of muscle. He waited until Jackson looked up at him and nodded again. He pushed the rest of the way into his friends, and waited for a few more seconds, before beginning to move slowly in and out of him. It felt incredible, and he let himself get lost in the sensation for a few seconds. Then, he reached down and grabbed Jackson's dick and began to pump it.

After about a minute, Jackson had gotten used to the sensation. Mark was changing his angle slightly with every thrust. Mark pushed in harder than he had meant to, and he heard Jackson yelp. He immediately froze, and began to apologize. Jackson clutched onto Mark's shoulders and said, "Jesus fucking Christ! Do that again!" Mark realized that he had found a particularly sensitive area, and Jackson seemed to enjoy it. Mark pushed back in at the same angle, and was rewarded with another curse from the younger man.

Jackson couldn't contain his moans. He began to beg Mark, "Please, fuck me harder." Mark complied without hesitation. He began to pound in and out of his friend, harder and faster than he could have ever imagined doing. Mark leaned down and captured Jackson's lips in a dominating kiss. The were both completely enthralled in the sensations they were experiencing. Jackson couldn't believe how good it was feeling.

Mark could tell by the look on Jackson's face that he was as close to cumming as he was. He leaned his head down and whispered in his ear, "God, you feel so good. I can't hold on much longer."

Jackson responded, "Me neither." They continued for less than a minute before the time was upon them.

Jackson almost screamed, "I'm gonna cum." Mark sped up the pace of his hand and his hips, and took Jackson's mouth in a deep kiss. He felt Jackson tighten around him as they both let go. He swallowed the sounds of Jackson's orgasm. Hot fluid cover his hand and Jackson's stomach at the same moment he spilled his load into his friend.

The kiss continued for a few more seconds before Mark pulled away, and rolled off of Jackson. He laid next to his friend, and Jackson rolled onto his side and cuddled up next to him. Mark kissed Jackson on the forehead, and pulled the covers over them. "Goodnight, Jackson," he whispered. Jackson replied by letting out a mild snore.

Mark smiled to himself. Today had been the best day that he had experienced in years.


	9. Chapter 9

Disclaimer: I do not own anything.

Chapter 9

Jackson heard Mark's breathing even out, and he began to snore loudly. He slowly began to extricate himself from Mark's embrace. He didn't know why he had pretended to be asleep when Mark had said goodnight, he could have said it back. All he knew was that he couldn't face Mark in the morning. He also knew that if he stayed, there was no way of leaving without talking about what had happened. It wasn't that he didn't ever want to talk about it, it was just that he needed to work some things out first.

He grabbed his underwear from the floor at the foot of the bed, and slipped out of Mark's bedroom. He walked across the living room, and into the guest bedroom. Dressing quickly, he made sure that he had his phone and wallet. When he went to check for his keys, he remembered what Mark had told him that morning. He opened the front door to the apartment, and flipped the lock on the door handle as he slipped out. He shut the door as quietly as he could, and walked over to the elevator.

When he got downstairs, he pulled out his phone and called for a cab. At first, when the cab company where he wanted to be picked up, he didn't know what to say. He looked around, and saw the nearest cross streets. He told the cab company where to pick him up.

Fifteen minutes later, Jackson was sitting in the cab of a cab on his way to Joe's bar. When they got there, he asked the cabby to wait, and went inside to get his keys.

Joe stood behind the bar, and Jackson waved him over. "Hey, Joe. Can I get my keys?" he said over the sound of the people. Joe reached under the counter and pulled out two sets of keys.

"Which one?" he asked. Jackson reached out and took the correct pair. He thanked the bartender, and walked back to the waiting taxi.

"Where to next?" the man asked. Jackson gave him the address to his new condo. As they drove, Jackson became more and more nervous. He hadn't been back to the condo since the incident almost two weeks ago. When the cab pulled up to his building, Jackson sat for a few moments, not wanting to get out. The cab driver looked back at him and asked if they were in the right place. Jackson told him that they were, and paid the cab fare.

He got out of the bright yellow car, and walked resolutely up to the building. He walked up the stairs, and found himself standing in front of the door to what was supposed to be his home. He held the key in his hand, and tenderly placed it in the lock. He turned it, and slowly pushed the door open. He popped his head into the room and looked around cautiously. As he stepped in, he felt jumpy, as though the man with the gun could be around any corner.

Once he had searched the whole place, he finally locked the door. He made sure to lock both the handle and the deadbolt. _I should add another lock,_ he thought, _Maybe a chain or a dog. _He took a deep breath and looked around the living area again. He sat on the couch that was placed haphazardly in the middle of the living room, surrounded by boxes. As he sat there, his eyes fell on the patch of floor where Mark and he had been during the attack. He got up, and walked over to the spot. He knelt down and saw that there was dried blood on the carpet. He felt as though he was going to vomit. He had never had a problem with blood, how could he and be a surgeon, but the sight of Mark's blood on the carpet was too much for him to handle.

He got up and began searching the sides of boxes for the word 'cleaning supplies.' When he found it, he grabbed some carpet cleaner, a scrub brush, and a pair of yellow, rubber gloves. He quickly dawned the gloves, got on his knees, and began to scrub at the stain furiously. He felt tears streaming down his face, but couldn't begin to control them. When the stain had been obliterated, he got up and got a cup of water and a rag to clean up the carpet cleaner. When he was finally done, he ripped the gloves off and sat with his back to the kitchen peninsula. He cried uncontrollably for a few minutes.

When he finally got control of himself, he looked at his watch. It was one o'clock in the morning, and he was very tired, but he knew he couldn't sleep. He needed something to distract him, so he set about putting the frame of his bed together. Once that was done, he moved the furniture around until everything was in a position that he liked. Then he set to work on unpacking the boxes. It was light outside before he finished, and he realized that he really needed a shower.

He had already put all of his toiletries in their places during his unpacking marathon, so he grabbed a towel from under the sink. He turned the shower on, and stepped in before it had fully warmed up. He didn't make any effort to avoid the lukewarm stream, but set about washing himself instead. After he was done, he stepped out of the shower, and wrapped the towel around his waist. He wiped the fog off the mirror with his hand, and looked at his disheveled form in it.

He stared into his own bloodshot eyes. As he stared, his eyes were drawn to a red mark on his neck. He realized after a second that it was a hickey left there by Mark last night. _Mark marked me,_ he thought. He was surprised to find himself smiling at the thought. He dried himself off, and found some fresh clothes in his closet. As he pulled a maroon sweater over his head, he hear his cell phone ringing from the other room. He walked out to the living room, and picked it up without looking at the caller ID.

"Jackson Avery" he stated into the phone.

"Jackson, where are you? Are you okay?" He heard Mark's voice on the other end of the line, and cursed himself silently.

"Yeah, I'm fine," he responded. "I just had some stuff to do."

"Jesus Christ, man. You could have left a note. I almost freaked out when I couldn't find you. I thought..." He trailed off at the end of his sentence, but Jackson knew what he had been about to say. He had worried that Jackson had done something to hurt himself. He had to admit that he understood; he hadn't been the most predictable person over the last couple of weeks.

"No, I'm fine, Sloan," he repeated. He knew that using Mark's surname had probably hurt him after all that they had been through, and he didn't know quite why he had done it. "Look, Mark. I just need some space right now, alright?"

"Yeah, man. Whatever." Mark said in a tone of voice that told Jackson that he was hurt, but trying to play it off as if it were nothing.

Jackson chose not to call him out on it and simply said, "Thanks. I'll see you at work."

Over the next couple of days, Jackson was distant with Mark. He would only work with him minimally, and when he did see him, he kept it just to the medicine. Mark seemed to be respecting the fact that Jackson had asked for space. Mark had even switched him off of his service for the time being. He had worked on a few neuro cases with Shepard, and a few peds cases with Robbins. At the moment, though, he was working in the ER.

It was a relatively slow night, and he was stitching up a knife wound from a mugging. As he worked, he could hear Meredith and Christina talking, though he couldn't make out about what. He wrote the man a prescription for some antibiotics, and told him that a nurse would be by with his discharge papers in a few minutes. As he walked away, he caught the end of one of Christina's sentences. "...actually made them have sex with each other? Two guys?"

Jackson froze, and heard Meredith respond, "Yeah, and the guy made him beat the shit out the other one. He's a mess. He's up in Sloan's OR right now." Meredith continued talking, but Jackson had stopped listening. He stopped himself from running, and made his way out of the ER and to the elevators. It took too long for one to come, so he opened the door to the stairwell, and started running up the stairs.

He got to the OR rooms, and looked quickly at the board to find which one held Mark and his patient. He walked over to OR #7, and walked into the scrub room. When he was done scrubbing in, he caught his breath and walked into the operating room.

"Can I help?" he asked Mark, who was clad in a light blue surgical gown.

Mark looked over at him and said, "Sure." Jackson approached, and Mark continued, "He's got a broken nose, broken eye socket, he's missing a few teeth, and there are numerous lacerations." He spoke solemnly.

"What can I do?" Jackson asked.

"I'm just starting to work on his nose. You can fix his eye socket." Jackson took the tools from the tray by the patient, and stood across from Mark. He looked at Mark, who met his gaze, before getting to work.

They worked as a team for several hours, before they were finished. The man wouldn't look the same as he had before, but he would look normal. They walked into the scrub room, and began to scrub out. As they stood their, Mark said, "You did good work, Jackson. He's going to be fine."

"Yeah, maybe physically," he said, dejected. With that, he walked out of the room, and made his way to the on-call rooms. When he found an empty one, he walked in, needing to think. He started to pace with his hands on the back of his head. He was facing the window, when he heard the door open. He turned around to see Mark's concerned face. Mark locked the door, and stood their for a moment, waiting for Jackson to say or do something.

To Mark's surprise, Jackson broke down into tears, and wrapped his arms around Mark's neck. Mark returned the gesture, and let Jackson cry on his shoulder. After about a minute, Jackson's cries began to dissipate. "That could have been me." He stated this matter-of-factly, not moving from Mark's embrace. "It could have been me on that table."

"No," Mark stated firmly, "I would never have hurt you like that."

Jackson removed himself from Mark, and sat down on one of the beds. He ran his hand through what little hair he had. "I heard Meredith telling Christina about him," he said. "I thought they were talking about you and me before she said that you were working on him." Jackson looked up into Mark's eyes. Mark stood still for a beat, then sat down next to Jackson on the bed.

"I'm not going to tell anyone," Mark said. Jackson believed him, and placed his hand on Mark's knee. Mark placed his hand over Jackson's.

Jackson hugged him again, and Mark rubbed his back. "I would never hurt you." Mark repeated himself.

Jackson nodded and said, "I know. I know you wouldn't." Jackson pulled away, and looked into Mark's eyes. "When are you off?"

Mark checked his watch, and said, "Like an hour ago."

Jackson nodded, and took Mark's hand. He stared down at their intertwined fingers and asked, "Can we go somewhere and talk?" A small smile broke across Mark's face, and he nodded in agreement.

They stood up, Mark released Jackson's hand, and Jackson took a second to compose himself. They walked out of the on-call room, and they walked out of the hospital together. As they approached the parking lot, Mark asked, "So, where to?"

"My place," Jackson said, simply. Mark was surprised, but didn't argue. They got into their respective cars, and drove off towards Jackson's condo.

Jackson and Mark both arrived simultaneously at Jackson's place. They got out of their cars, and walked into the building. When they got to the door, Jackson went to open it, but Mark placed a hand on his shoulder. Jackson wasn't sure if Mark was scared or worrying about him, but he decided his response was the same. "It's okay, Mark."

With that, they walked into the condo. As Mark stepped in, a look of confusion spread across his face. "When did you do all this?" he asked, gesturing at the unpacked area.

"After I left your place, that night," he said. "Truth be told, I didn't even sleep. I just spent all night cleaning and unpacking."

"I would have help you," Mark said.

Jackson smiled, and said, "I know." He offered Mark a drink, which he declined, and they sat down on the couch together.

"So, what did you want to talk about?" Mark asked.

Jackson paused for a second, not sure how to begin. Then he said, "I'm sorry for how I've been acting."

"It's alright," Mark replied, "You've had a lot on your mind."

"It's not alright, though," Jackson said, emphatically. "I've been acting like all of this was happening to me, and nothing was happening to you. It wasn't cool, and I'm sorry."

Mark was about to repeat that it was alright, but caught himself, and instead said, "Apology accepted." They sat there for a minute in an uncomfortable silence. Mark was wondering what was coming next, and Jackson was trying to work up the nerve to say the thought that had been plaguing him for weeks.

Finally, Jackson got up his courage and asked, "What... what is there between us?" He held his breath as he waited for Mark to answer. Mark wasn't sure what to say. His mind was spinning. He knew that he had feelings for Jackson, but he wasn't sure if Jackson wanted to hear that. Maybe he just wanted to be reassured that things hadn't changed between the two of them. In the end, Mark knew that things had changed, and this was his opportunity to tell Jackson how he felt. If it went well, then he might gain a boyfriend. If it went badly, chances were that Jackson would say anything to people at the hospital, and they could just stop working together.

Mark cleared his throat and said, "I... I have feelings for you. I'm not sure what they are exactly, but if you want to know the truth, I-I" He cleared his throat again, and said, "I think that I like you." After a few seconds of silence, he lifted his eyes from the ground, and brought them to Jackson's face. He was surprised to see a smile had formed on his lips.

"I like you, too," Jackson responded. "I didn't really know how to deal with it. Maybe I didn't want to admit it to myself, but I like you, and I want to be with you." Mark smiled at his words, and moved a little closer to Jackson on the couch.

"Well, we're in agreement, then," he said, smiling as well. Jackson leaned forward, and captured Mark's lips in a gentle kiss. It only lasted a few seconds, but it felt almost like forever to the men.

When they pulled away, Jackson said, "I wanna take this kinda slow, though. If that's okay." He felt suddenly nervous.

"That sounds perfect," Mark replied with a huge smile plastered on his face. "Slow is perfect." With that, they began to kiss again.

Over the next few weeks, they fell into a perfectly comfortable and happy relationship. Each man realized that they had never been happier. Their good moods were bolstered by the news that the man that had set their relationship in motion had been caught, and would inevitably spend many years in prison for the attacks of four sets of men after them. The night that they heard the news, Mark moved into Jackson's condo, and they began their life together. After all, it's not often one finds the kind of trust that they shared between them.

The End

Author's note: So it got a little mushy at the end, but I thought it was the best way to wrap the story up. I hope you've enjoyed my first story (I certainly enjoyed writing it). It's back to school for me, so I don't know when or if I'll be writing another (we'll see). Happy New Year!


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